The Air I Breathe
by mimijade
Summary: This is my first fanfiction ever, love LOTM and felt I had to contribute. Alice tells her life story, starting in England.
1. Chapter 1

My name is Alice. My last name…it does not matter. Last names hardly matter around here. As a child my last name was Munro. I say as a child, because I became a woman only days before my marriage. Instead of maturing slowly and steadily, my childhood was taken away from me in one day…

I am old now. My hair has blanched to white, my skin wrinkly like a dried apple. I must look like a fright, though my grandchildren love me. Or are they my great-grandchildren? Moments of clarity, instead of the status quo, are now rare jewels in my weary days. My children sense this. My daughters (or are they my granddaughters?) sit at my feet and beg me to tell them the story of my life, as they know as well as I that there won't be many more opportunities. "If I am to tell you my life story, I must tell all of it, the beauty and the ugliness, the honorary and the scandalous. You children will not want to hear it from my lips" I say to them, to which they protest wildly. They know little about me, their own mother and grandmother. I can hardly begin to explain to them the world to which I once belonged. I have given them little glimpses throughout their childhood. When we saw fancy people in town or in Detroit when we used to go once a year, I would sometimes say, "I used to wear dresses like that, with gloves like that. I used to ride in carriages like that. My father used to wear a wig like that" and they would stare at me wide eyed, only momentarily seeing their mother in a different light.

The truth is my kind of story is not fit for the ears of one's children, not even if they are grown. But yet it must be told. So it is you, my dear Agnes, my sister's daughter, my flesh that I did not bear, in whom I choose to invest the last clear moments of my life. The relationship between aunt and niece is a special one, not quite like mother and daughter, but close enough. Once I breathe my last (and I sense it won't be long) it is up to you to tell my children and grandchildren as much or as little as you perceive each of them can handle. I would rather it be you than anyone else.

I live in a house in a land they now call Michigan. The house is in the woods, not far from the shore of a lake. It is made of crude logs, for my man is not a carpenter, try as he might. It keeps us warm in the harsh winter, and for that I love him and the house. We milk our own cow, churn our own butter, grow and hunt and catch our own food. We make our own clothes, mostly out of animal skins, with some exceptions. We have even learned to make soap. Did I grow up knowing how to do these things, you may ask? At this I can only laugh.

This is how I grew up. I had no mother, for she died giving birth to me. I had an older sister. We lived in a house so big you would not believe it if I tried to explain it to you, bigger than anything you've seen in Detroit or any trading post. It had more rooms than I could count. Not only did we have the house, we also had a summer cottage in which the fondest memories of my childhood were formed. Our father was almost always away, for he was a military man. We were raised by strange women, called governesses. They taught us how to read and dress and recite poetry and sing songs, but not much else. Our clothes were made from satin and silk and the finest of fabrics. That sounds heavenly, you may say, but you'd be wrong, for our garments were designed to keep us helpless. The many layers of skirts made it nearly impossible to run without instantly ruining them, and as that time approached for us girls to become women our dress was changed accordingly. We were made to wear corsets crafted from whalebone that kept our torsos painfully rigid, a torturing device, really. I can't believe I ever put up with it. We were raised to be dolls, pretty playthings for future husbands but of no other use. Such is the life of the rich.

Our father came home only sometimes, and at the news of his arrival Cora and I became giddily happy for it always brought lavish gifts and wonderful attention. As Cora grew older our father would sometimes take her along on his trips and I was left home, utterly miserable until her return. I was frail and young looking, and nothing much was ever expected of me. I was like my mother, I'm told, and perhaps my father was afraid for me, of losing me as well. Cora was like him, strong and loud.

The first trip I was ever invited to go on was to the America's where my father already was stationed. I was sixteen years old. He summoned Cora and I to travel across the Atlantic to a town called Albany and from there to Fort William Henry where we would meet him. England was in a war against France in that place. Our father had been gone for over a year and he missed us greatly, and felt it was now safe enough for us to be with him. How excited I was, how envious were my friends! I promised to write to them and return to them with grand tales of the red man and wild beasts and such. So off we went.

Why am I still here, you may ask? 'Tis true, I never left this place again for England. It cast a spell on me, that is the best way I can word it. The land itself cast this spell, but the land also appeared to me in the flesh, in the form of a man that embodied everything it had to offer. And so I must tell you about Uncas.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Before I met Uncas, I had never been touched by a man, save for an embrace by my father or a polite arm to help me out of a carriage or up on a horse. My first meeting with Uncas happened when he roughly grabbed my shoulders to prevent me from running after my horse that he had just shooed away. What a first impression of this most gentle of men (though not gentleman)I had ever had the privilege of knowing! We were on our way from Albany to Fort William Henry through the lush forestry of America to see our father who was stationed there as Colonel. Only a month before this my sister and I had arrived in the New World. Uncas, his brother and his father has just saved us from an ambush by a hostile tribe. Yes, you heard that right. That was my true baptism into this world. It was actually not the first time I had seen death in my life (I had once in passing seen a woman hung in the London market square, the image of her twitching body haunting me for years) though the first time that death almost befell me.

We had been riding through the woods, a group of British soldiers accompanying us and an Indian named Magua (a frightful looking man) guiding us. Without warning, this Magua, whom we had been led to believed we could trust (although I had my personal doubts) attacked one of our men with an ax. Then everything happened faster than I could react. A whole group of wild looking Indians suddenly were upon the British soldiers, dispatching of them faster than lightning! Cora and I were thrown from our horses. I crouched on the ground and hid my face in her skirts. What else was a girl like me supposed to do? Duncan Heyward, the young officer assigned to our care, rushed to protect us and to our horror was shot down in a few meters before our eyes. Magua noticed us and aimed his gun at us, and we could only sit there helplessly.

That is when three men came to our rescue out of nowhere. Magua disappeared in a cloud of smoke from shots fired at him from behind us. With skill equal, and in fact superior, to those of our attackers they fought them off. Two of them were Indian for sure, and the third was white but dressed like an Indian. He was young, as well as one of the Indians, the second Indian was older. After the enemies were all either dead or had run off, the young Indian chased away the horses, and I ran after them in protest, for I believed us to be helpless and stranded without four hooves to carry us.

When Uncas (the young Indian) grabbed me, I was shocked beyond words! But there was something else too. His touch was not painful. I knew he was not our enemy. He awakened something in me that had been sleeping an uneasy sleep, something that showed itself in strange dreams that had me waking up confused.

Most young ladies my age in our circle of society already had their eyes on some gentleman, and were heartbroken if he chose another. I could not identify with such feelings, and had not thought to connect attraction for a man with the dream sensations I experienced. And here it was hitting me full force! I had never looked an Indian in the eye, having met only a few and frankly being somewhat terrified of them. Now I was compelled to, and this particular one was striking to say the least. He gazed at me unapologetically, with complete confidence. The look only lasted a moment but left me breathless.

I forgot about the horses. Later I would find out that he had chased them away for our own safety so we could not be tracked as easily, because there indeed were more evil men in the woods who lusted for our blood as revenge for something my father had done. His grabbing me was a kindness he did me. I was spared of making a spectacle of myself, running after the animals in futility. I also learned that the men had just happened to come upon the attack, and were willing to guide us the rest of the way to Fort William Henry.

So, after Uncas grabbed me in such a scandalous manner, I was not quite myself. I was constantly aware of his presence or absence, of his exact distance from me. And the distance was never great. After the enemies were fought off and the horses gone, we walked. We walked paths that horses could not take us, steep hills, even waterfalls. He was right behind me but I tried my best not to appear to need his help. Truth be told, I still did not know whether to be offended by what had transpired earlier. Most of all, I tried to avoid his closeness, afraid of what I would feel. I fought with myself, told myself that it was because of the trauma of the fighting and killing that my mind was in turmoil, and that may have been true. But the fighting and killing had brought Uncas to me.

We stopped to drink and eat what little food they had along. Now that he was no longer behind me, I could look at him again. And could barely stop looking. He was tall, much taller than I, probably in his early twenties (I turned out to be right about that). He was dressed in a green tunic and wore leather trousers and moccasins. His hair was very long (not partially shaved like the other Indians) and very black and tied up loosely. A shiny earring dangled from his right ear. Ridiculous on any English gentleman, but very befitting for him. A musket was slung across his chest, as well as a tomahawk by his side. Things a man would carry and the manliness of him caused a stir in my chest. His skin was warmly tanned and not at all red; why anyone would call his kind "red men" I do not know. His eyes were dark brown with an exotic slant to them, his voice deep and smooth although he did not speak much. I also took in his companions. They were dressed much the same, and his father (Chingachkook was his name I would learn later) looked like an older version of Uncas, albeit a bit shorter and stockier. Their brother Nathaniel was the talker, and he was clearly white in spite of his clothes. His eyes and facial features gave it away. I noticed Cora acting differently around him. He seemed to fascinate her just as much as Uncas fascinated me, although instead of withdrawing into silence like I did, she talked and argued with him much of the time.

I watched Uncas as he ate and drank. I watched the muscles in his jaw moving as he chewed his piece of dried meat. I drank in his voice whenever he said something, even though it was in another language (although I'd also heard him speak perfect English). Every little thing he did, every movement made my heart skip a beat.

It was silly, I told myself. What a childish thing. All it takes is for some man, a savage even, to touch you and here you are swept away. Get a hold of yourself. Soon you will see your father and forget about all this. You will return to England and entertain your friends with tales of a grand adventure in this wild land. You will meet a perfect gentleman of high standing, and you will fall in love and marry him, and live in a beautiful mansion and throw balls and tea parties and raise adorable children. You will laugh about the effect an Indian once had on you, because it will be a distant memory. All these things I tried to tell myself while I sat there staring at Uncas, and yet all I could think about was how warm his skin looked, and had in fact felt, and how I wouldn't mind at all I was could feel it again…

Suddenly I became aware that he was looking straight at me, and I dropped my gaze. And blushed of course, silly habit I had (but have since shed, there's not much in this world that can make me blush anymore). When I carefully lifted my eyes again, he was still looking, perfectly aware that our eyes now freely met. Such brazenness!


	3. Chapter 3

I neglected to mention earlier, I don't own The Last of the Mohicans or any of its characters.

Chapter 3

We continued on our path until we came across a cabin. A burned out cabin, recently burned out in fact. Cora and I stayed behind while the men slowly advanced upon it. It was then that I saw it, and I shrieked in horror. My sister flung her arms around me and Nathaniel spun around and cast me an angry look. There were bodies, but not the bodies of soldiers. It was a woman and children, and further off the body of a man in civilian clothes. A family. Who would do this? Many, I know now, but did not know then. I did not comprehend that somebody would kill a defenseless child.

The woman's body was closest to us, and her eyes were open and vacant. Uncas walked over to her and felt her pulse, although it was obvious even to me that she was gone. Then I realized. He did not feel for her pulse. He needed to touch her. He knew her. By the way he looked away and blinked, it seemed almost as if he were fighting off tears. Cora started talking about burying the bodies, and Nathaniel snapped at her that they would do no such thing. Cora then accused him of being heartless, and that even strangers deserved a decent burial. She did not understand. She had a loud opinion, and this Nathaniel seemed to bring it out in her especially. Upon hearing her say this, he walked towards her in a nearly threatening way, causing her to step backwards. "They are not strangers, and they lay as they are!" He said in a low voice.

I stayed quiet. Uncas had gone into the remains of the building and gazed around, his shoulders drooping. I ached for him, I wanted to hold him. I wanted him to cry in my arms. He looked so young, younger than Nathaniel. In fact, he looked vulnerable at this moment. Was the real horror of war only catching up with him now too? Even though he was a warrior and had killed other men before, seeing his friends lay massacred must be another experience altogether. I have never spoken to him about this since. I sense that it would serve no purpose for us. Cora and Nathaniel reconciled eventually and Cora relayed to me that Nathaniel had told her this family would often welcome them during their travels, and they had spent many nights at their house and grown very close to them. They did not bury the bodies because we were still being followed and had to move on swiftly.

On we went in silence, until dawn was approaching. We made camp on a hilltop. I had never slept in the outdoors before, and never without the warmth and comfort of a blanket. Though it had been a hot day, as darkness fell a chill entered the air. I lay down on the lumpy ground and waited for Cora to join me to provide some companionship and warmth, but she never did.

The three men had spread to different locations all around us in order to keep watch, and Cora sat beside Nathaniel and I could faintly hear them talking late into the night. I was irritated by this. My sister was abandoning me for this new man she'd met, a man that obviously made her forget about her younger sister. Cora had always been the strong one, the one whose incessant task it had been to watch over me. I pouted. I was the spoiled younger one. Nobody at all seemed to be paying attention to me and the fact that I was shivering in the dark.

After much tossing and turning I must have fallen asleep, but awakened at the sound of a click of a gun right beside me. My head snapped up, my breath turning into a ragged pant. I could see a large group of Indians and French beneath us, silently moving in the darkness, clearly looking for something. Looking for us! My body, without my full permission, started to scramble up in panic.

Just then a hand reached over my mouth and a body threw itself over me. I desperately struggled and tried to scream, but of course no sounds emerged, the hand was too firmly planted on my face. After what seemed like an eternity, my body relaxed and waited for pain, for death even, though it did not come. That is when I came to recognize the whispered voice of the "Shhhhh", I had, after all, been anxiously listening for it all day. Uncas!

He had been close to me, and I had not known. So, so close. His warmth enveloped me. "You must not move, they will pass" he continued to whisper into my ear, as the men's slow footsteps made leaves and twigs snap on the forest floor. And indeed they did pass, and his hand slowly moved from my mouth, though his body remained. I could feel his breath on the side of my neck. Surely he must feel my heart beating! When the men were completely out of sight, his body slid away, and the cold air took his place. He did not move far, for fear this silly girl that I am would put us in danger again, I supposed. Or maybe, just maybe he wanted to be close to me for other reasons…

What nonsense I thought. In beauty I paled in comparison to Cora. She with her womanly curves, spirited eyes and sharp, stunning contrast of pale skin and dark curly hair. I with my limp mouse brown hair, eyes of a nondescript color and the body of a child. No man ever noticed me in her presence. Nevertheless, the closeness of Uncas made me feel safe. That was it about him, I realized. He radiated an inner calm, such wisdom for someone his age. Nothing seemed to surprise him or scare him. All this I had gathered by studying him for just one day, and it was enough to calm me to the point of allowing sleep to claim me once more.

The next day was marked with exhaustion. We traveled endlessly. My feet were blistered and my calves ached. There was a stabbing at my side and a burning in my lungs. I fell behind many times, and Uncas, ever behind me, slowed his steps accordingly. Interestingly, it never occurred to Cora or I that these men may not be trustworthy, or that their intentions may be in any way ill. Although truth be told we had little choice but trust them, there was never a doubt in our minds. They had, after all, risked their own lives by fighting off our attackers. We had learned from Nathaniel that they had been on their way to a place called Can-tuck-ee because they did not want to be caught up in the French/Indian war that was raging all around us. When Cora asked if they were not part of any larger tribe that they could join, the answer was that the tribe they belonged to, called the Mohicans, had been wiped out by war and disease, and that Chingachkook and his son were the last remaining Mohicans by blood. Though the three of them sometimes stayed with friendly tribes for a few days, they could not truly be a part of them. Nathaniel himself was the son of settlers that were murdered, much like the scene we came upon yesterday, and had somehow been overlooked and survived. Chingachkook and his wife, when she was alive, passed through and found the little boy, and cared for him as their own.

Finally we caught sight of the fort, but before we saw it we could hear it. Something was terribly wrong. My insides twisted when I saw what was making the terrible noise. The fort was besieged by the French! How could this have happened? Why had nobody warned us from coming? The walls of the fort were surrounded by hellfire itself, the thundering of the cannons deafening. The soft edges of my innocence were melting away by the seconds. Was this the real world I had been sheltered from all my life? Cold fear gripped me and would not let go. Nathaniel looked unsure. "Are you sure you want to enter there?" he asked, and Cora screamed "Of course, our father is there!"

A lake separated us, but an old canoe was found at the shore, and so it was that we advanced upon this sight of hell on the water. As we came closer the water itself was aglow with flames, for darkness had already befallen us. We came to the sally port, and it took some explaining from Cora before they would let us enter. Once out of the water and in the fort, we ran towards the centre of it amidst absolute chaos, for the outer edge was the most dangerous as canons frequently found their target. Someone must have alerted our father because there he was, waiting for us. Upon the sight of him my feet moved even faster. His face equaled security and victory in my mind, like it always had. After all, what harm could possibly befall one in the presence of one's father? I threw myself into his arms while shrieking his name.

"What are you doing here? Where are my reinforcements? Where is Duncan?" he shouted, instead of welcoming us. "I sent you a letter to stay in Albany. Why did you girls disobey me?" "There was no letter!" Cora responded, panic showing through in her voice. "And Duncan is dead! We were ambushed, Papa! These men saved us and brought us the rest of the way!" It took awhile for the story to sort itself out. Papa sent us to his quarters while he continued to talk with Nathaniel, Uncas and Chingachkook. We reluctantly followed the servant he sent to take us there, wanting to hear the rest of the conversation between them.

That night I slept like a rock. The bed, though by no means the softest I'd ever lain on, felt luxurious beneath my tortured limbs. Not even the deafening noise could keep me awake.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

The next day passed slowly. Our father could not spend any time with us, it was clear that we had come at the completely wrong time. I went in search of Cora, as she had disappeared for much of the day, and found her in the surgery. My father had taken her along on previous military trips in Europe where she had acquired the skill of a surgeon's assistant. Her skills in fact surpassed those of an assistant. I heard her voice before I saw her, amidst other newly familiar voices.

Shyly I stood at the door while I watched her chat with Nathaniel as she was stitching up the wounds of someone. It took a few seconds for me to realize that it was Uncas she was working on. Uncas had been hurt? Had he been injured while saving us and was in pain the entire way? At the same time my blood boiled with jealousy. Why was I not included? Why was I treated like a child?

Uncas turned slightly and smiled the slightest smile at me (or was I only dreaming?) causing Nathaniel to notice me at well, and call me to join them. I came closer, unsure how to act or what to say, when Cora stepped to the side and I sucked in my breath. Uncas had lifted his tunic. An angry red mark ran along the left side of his abdomen, but what was more breathtaking was the realization that his leather trousers were not actually trousers, but more like stockings held in place with strings tied to a sort of belt, the same belt that held in place a loincloth. Beneath this was nothing but skin that was now exposed uninterrupted from his torso to his thighs. His…private area…was just barely concealed…

Something inside me twitched at the sight. His upper body was stunning, truly. It was muscular and tanned like the rest of him, but in addition it was covered in all kinds of mysterious tattoos which were highly intriguing to me. Cora had finished cleaning the wound and started to stitch it up. Uncas lifted his eyes to the ceiling and never flinched. Nathaniel and my sister carried on in their conversation while she worked, ignoring Uncas almost as much as they were ignoring me. In fact, they were flirting with each other! I felt useless, sitting there watching the scene unfold, yet I was glad to be there, if only to be close to Uncas and feast my eyes on him. When he was bandaged up and good to go, I conveniently got up at the same time as him to leave these two lovebirds alone. I dared myself to smile at him and say "You were very brave" and he flashed a smile in return. My heart jumped into my throat. We went our separate ways, but I was happy.

That night Cora did not come to our room. Nobody noticed but me. Left alone to my thoughts, I tossed and turned, for the night was very humid, although that was not all. Inside of me there was a fire burning as well. I replayed the incidents two nights ago in my head over and over again. Was it just a dream? Did Uncas really hold me close to his body? Did I really hear him whispering into my ear? Every time I went back there in my thoughts, it felt like an explosion deep in my belly. And when I thought of what I had seen at the surgery something else happened too: An uncomfortable moistness in that secret place. That sensation was so new to me that I simply did not know what to do with it; I clamped my legs together and hugged a pillow to my chest, desperate for something which I could not understand or even name.

I must have fallen asleep although my dreams continued in much the same way, a soft opening and closing of the door woke me from it. "Where have you been?" I whispered accusingly. Cora stood by the door silently for a few moments, and then she sat down at my bed. "Alice, you must know, we are no longer little girls. Sometimes we must make our own decisions…"There was a long silence then for I had no idea what she was talking about "Tonight, Nathaniel kissed me." I gasped."Would father approve?" I whispered. "No, he would not, Alice. I'm afraid there is a side to our father that I have only just today discovered…"At this Cora's voice trailed off, then she spoke again. "Nathaniel and Uncas were beseeching our father to sent troops to protect the nearby settlements. They told him about the cabin we'd discovered. I heard them, I was there. Father just refused. Just like that. He said it was not his problem. Can you believe it?" "I'm sure he had a reason?" I said uncertainly, not wanting to believe anything bad about my beloved Papa. Cora raised her voice. "No Alice, you don't understand. It was Nathaniel. Father didn't believe him, didn't take him seriously!"

She lowered her voice to a whisper. "I'm going to leave with Nathaniel. I'm not returning to England, or even to Albany. But you have to keep this a secret Alice. I want you to know when it happens, so you know why. You owe it to me as a sister, tell no one. When the time comes I will need your help." "But what will become of me?" I nearly sobbed. "Alice, you are all that Father will have. You are free to do whatever you want, but you will be fine without me. "I violently choked back my tears in disbelief as Cora arose and went to her bed. Just when I though she was asleep I thought of one more thing to ask her, although I did not expect an answer. "What was it like, the kiss?" I whispered into the dark. No reply came until my own eyes grew heavy again. Then I heard her whisper back "It was so wonderful, there simply are no words for it. Like falling and falling, but you want to fall. You don't want to stop falling…"

Cora's plan did not materialize, at least not in the way she had hoped. The very next day Nathaniel was arrested. Cora uncharacteristically sobbed hysterically when she stormed into our room to tell me this. "They are going to hang him, Alice, oh God, why is this happening?" My mouth gaped open."What for, what did he do?" "Supposedly he encouraged some of the militia to abandon the fort and return to their families. But that can't be all. Father must know about us!"

Her expression changed then, and so did her tone. "Alice, you did not tell anyone about our plan, did you? Tell me you didn't!" "No, I would never!" I exclaimed, hurt that she would even suspect such a thing. "Then somebody must have seen us when we were kissing…" Cora had slumped down on her bed by now. Her hysteria was spent, but the tears continued to run unchecked. Mine were close to spilling over as well. If father disapproved of Nathaniel to such an extent that he would take these measures, then what would he do if he knew about my feelings for…"Cora, was only Nathaniel arrested, or the others too?" Cora cast me a long look. "Only Nathaniel."

I dared not try to find Uncas anymore after this, or hope that anything would ever materialize between us. He must hate our family by now anyways, after what my father did to his brother. Several times during the day and night Cora snuck down to the cell where they kept Nathaniel. I knew they must be trying to devise some sort of escape plan although I doubted it would get them anywhere.

The attacks on the fort had continued to escalate. On this day however, they suddenly stopped. I heard talk that my father had gone to meet with the commander of the French army to negotiate. Never did I expect my father to surrender, though that is exactly what happened. Upon his return the entire population of the fort was ordered to pack and be ready to march out the following morning. Madness erupted as families were hurrying to throw together everything they owned in a single night. I did not matter very much to Cora and myself as this was only a visit us for and we would have left one way or another sooner or later and had no belongings there either, having arrived with nothing but the clothes on our backs. Especially Cora seemed very detached. All she must be thinking about was that Nathaniel may have a chance to escape during the exodus.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

The next morning all the inhabitants of the fort marched out. Cora and I were sharing a horse near the front of the crowd. Our father was nearby though he could not spare any attention for us. It was a solemn, strange event. We, the English, had given up this fort to the French. We had lost it. How humiliating for father, I thought, and I pitied him greatly. Constantly Cora and I turned our heads, scanning the crowd for certain familiar faces, though the line of people was endless and the men we were looking for were nowhere to be seen.

Suddenly I knew something was wrong. So wrong that it would change my life forever. We were moving through a clearing and the woods around us had grown eerily quiet. A terror of previously unknown proportions gripped my guts and made me tighten my arms around my sister. Her stiffened back told me she felt it too. Our worst fears were confirmed when a single Indian war cry was heard a short distance behind us, and a shot rang out.

Panic arose in the crowd for our army had given up their weapons as part of the agreement of surrender. A few moments later a dreadful deafening roar of war cries emerged all around us as grotesquely painted Indians emerged from the woods that surrounded us. They stormed upon us mercilessly. Cora and I were thrown from our horse and started running, though where to we did not know for there was nowhere to go. Everywhere around us a slaughtering had erupted. Unarmed men, old people, women and children were shot and struck down with muskets, spears and tomahawks.

I stopped running and became as if paralyzed, for I saw something else too. I saw my father. I saw him lying beside his horse, which had been shot down. It was him, there was no mistake. A most gruesome looking Indian crouched above him and pulled something out of him. Something read and pulsating. It dripped blood down his arm as he raised it high above him like a trophy and led out a blood chilling war cry. I would not, could not will myself to believe what I had just witnessed, what this thing was that the monster held in his hand.

The world around me blurred and muted. I retreated into a place in myself that I had not up until this point known existed. I barely noticed a warrior storming towards us, his tomahawk raised, or that Cora pulled a gun from her skirts and shot him dead. I stood limply as another grabbed me from behind, ready to slice my throat. I simply did not care anymore; it was the only way I could cope. I faintly was aware that Cora lunged at him, and that he then turned on her instead. I did see Nathaniel running through the bloody, chaotic field. And Chingachkook. And Uncas. They struck down enemies as their made their way towards us, and just barely managed to save my sister's life. I saw this, but I could not react. Uncas ran ahead to the lake that lay beyond. Cora and Nathaniel ran together, and Chingachkook had to grab my arm to make me move, or else I would have been incapable of doing so.

We made it into a canoe and the men paddled for our lives since we were being pursued. Of all the things I should notice at his time, it was my hair that I became aware of, and that it had come completely loose and hung around my face. I grabbed some of it and focused on it, rubbing it between my fingers. It helped me remain in my special world where none of this was real. I might as well be sitting in a carriage in the English countryside, off to visit our summer cottage without a care in the world…

I was only slightly jostled out of this fantasy when the canoe when down a small waterfall, though it stayed upright. We were now on a river and drifted close to a much bigger, roaring waterfall. Just before going over the edge the men managed to veer the canoe off to the side and helped us onto a steep shore. The empty canoe drifted back and went over the falls. We made our way into an almost hidden indentation under the waterfall, a cave of sorts. On the one side was slick rock, on the other a roaring, powerful curtain of water that shielded us from view. There was a mostly narrow path we followed, until we saw a dead end. "This is as far as we go" said Nathaniel. "If we're lucky, they'll think we went over the falls."

By this time we were all completely soaked. I sat down on the ground and shivered. Uncas and Chingachkook took up positions at different ends of the cave, while Nathaniel stayed with us. Cora pulled him a few meters away from me. She tried to speak to him quietly but the noise of the water made this impossible. So it was that I managed to hear what she started to talk to him about. "My father, have you seen my father?" She had to yell for him to hear her. "From a distance" he answered.

I stood up and hurried past them, desperate not to hear him relaying what he had seen, what I had seen. If I heard somebody else say it, it would make it real. I made my way closer to the entrance of the cave so I would be sure not to be within ear shot. There I stared glassy eyed into the curtain of water and retreated back into my alternate reality. The falls glistened so beautifully in the half light that I moved closer to them, mesmerized. I stretched out my hand to touch them, stepped nearer and nearer…

A hand suddenly grabbed mine and pulled me back to safety. Strong arms encircled me and drew me to the ground. Fingers brushed through my hair. Warm lips touched my forehead. A sweetly familiar scent filled my nostrils and my very being. He was here. He was holding me, stroking my hair, kissing my face. Could this be real? I felt myself emerge from this hiding place inside myself; I did not need it anymore. He was pulling me back to life itself. I clung to him as the tears finally came, shaking my body and soul. He stretched out on the ground and hugged me to him, his hands reaching around me so tenderly. He never said a word but he didn't need to. My childhood drifted away from me in that half-cave, in the safety of Uncas' arms. I was forced to grow up in one day, but nestled in his cocoon it was bearable.

Time eluded me. I did not know how long we lay there, but suddenly Uncas' countenance became alert. He whispered to me to go back to the others. He followed shortly and hurriedly conversed with the other men in a foreign language. Then Nathaniel turned to us. "They have found us. We are trapped. Our only option is to jump down the falls." I read Cora's thoughts. Jump down the falls? It was a great height! Wouldn't it mean certain death? "We have done it before; the river is deep beneath the waterfall. Just hold my hand Cora!" They found a fissure in the water curtain. Chingachkook jumped first without hesitation. Then Nathaniel and Cora readied themselves. He firmly held on to her hand, counted to three, and they disappeared from view.

Uncas held out his hand but I backed away. "I can't do this. I can't swim. I'm afraid! I can't do this!" "Yes Alice you can. Hold on to me. I won't let you go." I shook my head violently. "Alice, there is no choice! They will find us and kill us. They are already here." He was right; I could see the reflection of torches in the far end of the cave. "Then jump and save yourself" I whispered loudly. At this his arms encircled me with an iron grip. He lifted me from where I stood and flung us both off the edge.

My stomach seemed to jump into my throat. The fall appeared endless. When we entered the gurgling river and went under we hit something hard but Uncas' body absorbed the shock of the impact. He never let go of me. We went up and I gasped for air, but only managed to swallow more water. Down we went again. Every time we came up in the rapids was never enough to gather enough air into my lungs. I don't know how we finally made it to the river bank alive, where Uncas pulled my coughing, gasping body onto dry land.

He himself was worse off than I because his nose was streaming blood and he had suffered a gash to the back of his head, where his hair was getting bloodier by the second. We only had a minute to recover before we started hearing loud voices in the woods behind us, and Uncas calmly said, "Now we run." And run we did, me in my dripping skirts that clung to my legs, him losing more blood by the minute. We ran for what seemed like hours. Uncas held my hand and urged me along. I tried my best not to slow him down but it was futile in my wet dress. At some point he said "I think we lost them but let's run further just in case". So we did, until he finally decided we had come far enough.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

I leaned against a tree to catch my breath and looked down on my dress. It was sodden beyond belief; it's once cream color unrecognizable. A small stream which must have branched off the river happily gurgled nearby, and birds were singing. How strange that this place should seem so peaceful, when we were anything but? Uncas went to the stream and washed the blood off of his face and hair. I asked him if he was all right, and he answered yes, the cut was not serious. "Where are the others?"I asked. "We did not have time to determine a meeting place" was the answer. "They will find us somehow, or us them. Don't worry."

Uncas had gone off to find some food. Before he left, I had asked him whether it were all right if I was to wash my clothes in the stream. His face took on the unmistakable look of embarrassment. "Yes, just do it quietly." When he had gone I found a secluded spot behind a line of trees and removed the many layers of my garment. I figured we would be here for a while, and I simply could not stand the thought of spending another minute looking like this. Never before had my garments been this filthy! Clad in only my shift (the innermost layer) I waded into the water and began scrubbing to the best of my ability considering I had no soap and had never washed an article of clothing before in my life. I hung the fabric on nearby branches to dry, and then I waded into waist deep waters to clean myself.

The cold stream felt so soothing to my limbs. It reminded me of the tiny creek that ran through our land by the summer cottage in England, and how our governess would sometimes let us splash in there on hot days. Although I no longer felt it necessary to hide my thoughts from reality, I still clung to memories such as these to remind me that I had once been utterly happy and content, and that what had once been could be once more.

Lost in these thoughts I became aware of…something. A presence. It sent shivers up my spine. I slowly turned and my blood froze. A painted Indian was stalking his way towards me through the water from the other side. When I saw him he paused briefly, looked me straight in the eye and, raising his tomahawk, charged at me. Water sprayed as he ran. I wanted to run, to scream, to alert Uncas, but no muscle would move and no sound would emerge. When he was nearly upon me my body finally obeyed, and I threw myself sideways into the water, fully submerging myself.

There I waited for certain death. And waited and waited. I badly needed to come up for air but dared not to. I preferred drowning to a death at the hands of this frightening man. Just as my head felt ready to explode, a hand grasped my arm and pulled me up and I could not resist it.

I looked into the breathless face of Uncas. The painted Indian floated glassy eyed behind him, a deep gash in his forehead. I drew a breath and felt my body sway and nearly faint, and Uncas scooped me up and carried me to shore. The spell only lasted a minute. By the time he had laid me down on a grassy patch the world had stopped spinning and I became mortifyingly aware that my shift, while already sheer in its dry state, was now completely transparent and clung to my every curve. I may as well be naked! My hands flew to cover my breasts and I started to sob from a mixture of relief and humiliation.

Uncas had turned away but not before a flush spread over his face, visible in spite of his darker skin. His back to me, he removed his tunic and handed it over. It covered me down to my knees. He began to build a fire and started to speak. "We cannot stay here for long. I saw him while I was looking for food. He was alone, but others may follow. I have to keep the fire low." It was only then that I saw a dead squirrel on the ground, a heap of nuts and berries next to it. Uncas skinned and gutted the squirrel expertly with only a few movements of his knife. He set up a makeshift grill around and above the flames using thick branches and roasted the squirrel. My stomach twitched with hunger. Never in my life would I have thought I would one day be famished for squirrel!

My clothes dried and my stomach filled, we were once again on our way. We did not run this time but walked steadily, barely a word passing between us. While trying to process the events of this day my thoughts ran into a thousand different directions, some too painful and some too humiliating to pursue. We had come upon a mountain ridge and walked higher and higher along some sort of path, a cliff dropping down to our right. It was late in the day so Uncas suggested we make camp at a wider spot that consisted of a stony plateau overlooking the valley deep down below. In the shadow of the higher mountain wall there was a more grassy area, and that is where we rested our weary bodies.

The beginnings of a sunset streaked across the sky, a view quite breathtaking. We made no fire for it would be visible to any potential enemies at this great a height. The woods were swarming with Indian warriors looking for any escapees of the massacre. I struggled to understand how this could have happened. We were supposed to have been under the protection of the French army during the retreat, though it had been nowhere in sight when it was needed. Did their army lose control of its Native allies? Was there miscommunication? Or, and this was a very dark idea to entertain, had the French known this would happen; did they play a part? My father was a powerful man who had made many enemies, white and Indian alike (as I learned later), so this was not an unlikely possibility.

Uncas broke the silence of my thoughts. "There is a story that my people would tell, a legend. They say it happened at this very spot. Would you like me to tell it to you?" I turned to him and he smiled. I smiled back, growing more and more comfortable around him. He had, after all, seen me as good as naked (amongst many other intimate situations that took place that day)! So he continued:

"There was a girl born to the Mohicans who was as white as the moon. Her hair was golden like the sun and her eyes blue like the sky. This was before white men came to this land, so the people had never seen anything like her. As she grew older she developed a strange beauty. Members of other tribes came from far and wide to catch a glimpse of her."

Uncas held his smile as he talked, and I drank in his face, his voice, his very presence. "A great warrior of her people fell in love with her. He planned to marry her but wanted to wait until she was a little older. Meanwhile, a chief of another tribe, known for his cruelty, wanted the girl for himself, so he set out with a war party and kidnapped her. The girl's tribe immediately arranged a rescue party, but the warrior who loved the girl could not bear the thought of her being violated on the way, so he set out alone before anyone else to follow the war party on their way back and overtook them by way of the mountains. At this very spot he attacked them head on, striking down one man after another. When he came to the chief himself he fought hard but he was young and not as experienced. The chief inflicted one gash after another on him. He struck him to the ground on this platform next to the cliff. Then he felt sorry for the young warrior and was willing to spare his life so long as he would go back to where he came from. But the warrior looked at the girl and she at him. He could barely move with pain and one of his arms hung limply at his side. Yet he stood up slowly and raised his knife. The chief quickly stabbed him again, spun him around, slit his throat and flung him off the cliff."

Uncas paused and I looked at him sadly. Why was he telling me this awful story? "The girl saw everything. She walked to the edge of the cliff and no one tried to stop her. The chief stretched out his hand to her, the same hand that was covered with the warrior's blood. The girl looked down to where the warrior's body lay and jumped."

I pondered this story and all its possible meanings as I tried to sleep on the ground that night. And then I pondered other things too. Soon my shoulders were shaking with helpless sobs of grief, grief that went beyond mere sadness, grief so cruel that it threatened to tear apart my soul.

A hand softly touched the spot between my shoulder blades. "It's my father" I managed to cry. "I know. I know." It was all he said, all he needed to say. His hand drew slow circles on my back, a touch so raw in its comfort that it shattered a part of me once more.


	7. Chapter 7

I changed the rating to M because I want the option of making it steamy!

Chapter 7

We had come to an Indian village the next day. Uncas said it was a Huron village. He was hoping that by making an appearance there, his father and brother would find us, or one of the villagers would know where to find them. Before we drew close Uncas turned to me and said "These people will not at first know whether we are friend or enemy. Whatever happens, stay calm. No harm will befall you." I clung to his hand nervously as children playing on the outskirts caught side of us and ran away. I was paranoid beyond belief. It was one thing to walk and speak with an Indian, but to set foot in an actual Indian village…never in my life had I thought I would find myself in such a place, with no other of my kind by my side. My fears were exacerbated by a handful of men who suddenly surrounded us with raised spears and muskets.

Uncas showed no alarm. He kindly held my hand as we were marched into the centre of the village which consisted, at first glance, of smoky fires and many roundly shaped wooden huts of varying sizes. A real crowd gathered around us though I hardly paid attention to the people, my eyes being glued to the ground in terror. They were talking now, many at once, and Uncas made no reply. Perhaps he did not speak this language? Then how was he to tell them we meant them no harm?

He raised his hands, and the weapons around us were raised accordingly. Then, to my surprise, he pulled his tunic over his head. There was confusion around us, more talk, and some of weapons were lowered. An old man, dressed differently from the rest (clearly a man of authority of some kind) made his way through the crowd, which readily parted for him. He walked right up to Uncas and touched one of the tattoos on his chest, one that resembled a turtle. Then he spoke, and everybody else grew quiet.

Uncas replied to him easily. All weapons were lowered now and the hostile faces grew friendlier. We were led to one of the fires and offered food and a place to sit. The old man continued to talk to Uncas, to my dismay, as I was dying to ask him what had transpired. I had to wait long. Many men came to speak with him. We sat at that fire and ate and drank until darkness began to descend.

I started growing very fidgety, and Uncas, noticing my discomfort, called for one of the women who to my delight spoke some English. She showed me where to wash, where to go to relieve myself, and where I would sleep, which happened to be in the biggest hut in the village. "This the chief's hut" she said. "Big honor". She pointed to one of the furs on the ground inside the hut. Several small children were already asleep in a different corner, two with their mothers stretched out beside them. The chief must have several wives, I thought with discomfort. I lay down on the fur and tried to get comfortable as more people came in and lowered themselves onto the ground of this considerably large building. I did not see Uncas. Late into the night I could faintly hear him conversing outside. The comforting sound of his voice lulled me to sleep.

On the next day I finally had a chance to speak to Uncas. He apologized for his lack of attention, citing as reason the customs of the tribe that he was compelled to observe. The turtle on his chest had identified him as a Mohican, a tribe well known to others for its honor and bravery and mourned for its near demise. The chief had recognized Uncas as being one of the last ones and bestowed great honor on him by promising protection and a place in his hut for as long as we wished to stay.

"Have they heard of your brother and my sister?" I asked. "Not yet, but I am confident that they will hear of us and come to meet us here. " After pondering this for a moment, I had to ask who he told them I was. He looked me straight in the eye and answered "I told them you're my woman". Then he chuckled, because he saw how beet red my face became before his voice turned serious again. "It is best if you do not tell anyone who you really are. Your father…he had enemies, you understand, don't you? And you must also know that some of the men here took part in the attack." At this my face drastically lost its color. "They are assuming that I did so too and that I took you as my captive. It is best to play along. I don't know how much we can really trust these people."

After hearing this I became increasingly more uncomfortable in my surroundings. We continued to stay however, waiting from word from our relatives. Uncas bedded down in the same hut with several people in between us. As I watched him go to sleep, I thought of what he had said, "my woman", and the way he had looked at me when he said it. My heart beat faster at the memory. What did that term mean to these people? Certainly it did not mean we had to sleep together at night, but then again none of the men and women in the hut slept beside each other. It also didn't mean I had to pretend anything during the day.

Actually, I was largely ignored, I thought with some bitterness. Uncas never had time to talk to me; he was always talking to the men. I did not really see any of the men having conversations with the women though, so perhaps he was just following their customs? The only ones paying attention to me were the children, to my utmost joy. I love children. These children, in particular, were a delightful bunch. I loved their brown skin as much as they loved mine. Their smiles were like the sunshine itself. They would follow me around, the older girls carrying babies. I would often have to endure my hair being braided (none too gently) and I didn't mind. Many a baby fell asleep in my arms, and I would continue to hold them throughout their nap until they would awake and needed their mothers. That is how I filled my days at the Huron village. Once I became aware that Uncas was watching me with the children, a faint smile on his face, and it made me happy.

By now I had resigned myself to the fact that I was hopelessly in love with Uncas. He was so different from any man, white or otherwise, I had ever known. He held himself so dignified, yet he was completely unpretentious. I tried not to appear to follow him around the village but in truth I did it without thinking. The sight of him was like food and water to me. I spend many evenings pondering whether he might return those feelings of mine. He had rescued me on several occasions, comforted me and put his life on the line. But had he really held me in his arms under the waterfalls, had his lips really kissed my forehead and his fingers stroked my hair? The memory was becoming hazy. Had I been hallucinating? If it was real, would this be something anyone would do for a mere friend?

The thought of my sister also was never far from me. I started to fear the worst although there was no one to talk to about it save for Uncas, who was not often available. What if they would not come to meet us here? What if something happened to them? The thought was unbearable, along with the fear that I would be stuck in this strange village for the rest of my days, my relationship to Uncas forever in limbo.

When we had been at the village for about a week when the people had some sort of celebration. I could tell because the fires burned late and they were singing and dancing in their strange, mesmerizing way. The children were not put to bed at the usual time and many were still lingering around the fires with their parents after nightfall. I stood a little ways off, clouded in darkness while gently swaying a sleeping toddler to the rhythm of the drums. I kept my eye out for Uncas though he was nowhere to be seen.

At this point I had grown very, very tired of this place. The woman who spoke some English had been available to me whenever I needed something though she had made no attempt to further befriend me, and I had kept to myself at Uncas' request. I was truly lonely and still dealing with the grief of losing my father. The thought of it brought tears to my eyes, and in the darkness I let them fall over my cheeks unchecked.

"Alice." The voice made me spin around. Uncas had come up behind me. "I have good news. Your sister, my brother and father will be here in the morning. They have just sent word." My face broke out in a smile, my tears forgotten. "So they are all right? Nothing has happened to them?" Uncas just about snorted. "Nathaniel will not let anything happen to your sister. I was never worried about them."

Then there was silence, though he made no move to leave. "Alice. You are a good woman and I…want to ask you something." Another long silence followed. Was he searching for words? It was hard to read his face in the dim lighting. I stopped rocking the child. "I want to ask you…I hope I am not offending you…"In the awkwardness that followed, he looked at the ground, then took a deep breath, looked me confidently in the eye and said: "I want to ask you to stay with me. To be my wife. I have thought about it greatly. I am the last of my people and am free to choose whomever I love. And that is you."

My heart stopped beating for what seemed like a minute. I lost faith in my ears. Was I hearing this correctly? I realized he was waiting for an answer, but my speech had left me, so he continued. "I realize I am asking much of you. I cannot offer you an easy life, but I promise to always protect you and provide for you. And I will always love you" he added quietly. I found my voice then, and instead of shouting what my heart felt, I said the "proper" thing. "I…I shall have to think about it" I whispered. He nodded in understanding. "If your answer is yes, we can be married here among these people, before we leave. If you wish to." Then he stepped away, back to the light of the fires and the people.

My world was spinning, my heart singing. On shaky legs I went in search of the child's mother. Upon returning her I found my spot in the hut and unsuccessfully tried to quiet my racing heart. I attempted to think of his proposition in logical terms, weighing my options, looking at the reality of what he suggested, but all I could do was hear his words again, of how he loved me. He loved me! He wanted to marry me! I wanted to shout with joy. He felt about me the same way I felt about him!

The drums were quieting outside, the fires burning lower. The other inhabitants of the hut sleepily made their way to their sleeping spots. Uncas came in too and lowered himself onto his fur. His back was towards me and I watched him intently, and the fire in me came alive again. If he wanted to marry me that would mean he wanted to sleep beside me at night, kiss me, touch me, have children with me…

I knew very little about what transpired between a husband and wife in their intimacy, save for one incident I had the poor luck of witnessing as a child of 10 years. The memory came to me unbidden and unwanted. I had stepped onto a balcony that faced the back courtyard of our estate, where the servants had their entrance. There I saw movement beside the cellar stairs out of the corner of my eye. A man was standing behind one of the kitchen servants, her skirts pulled up. She was bent over, and he was moving against her roughly. They were mating like animals! That was the first thing that had come to my mind then, and I was shocked to learn that humans would do the same thing that I had often seen dogs do. I had run inside disturbed and confused and not mentioned it to anyone. Of one thing I was certain; nobody would ever do that with me!

I tossed around on the makeshift bed, banishing the unwelcome memory. It would not be like this with Uncas and me, it could not. Life with him could only be beautiful. I would forever be safe in his arms. What harm could possibly befall me in his presence? But then I also thought of what my relatives in England would say if they heard of this union, what scandal it would cause. I could not expect any of them to understand. Would Cora even understand? Would there be any other couples like us anywhere in this land? What kind of community could we live in where there would be acceptance, save for an Indian village like this? Was it even legal?

These thoughts began to plague me greatly as I continued to watch Uncas' back late into the night, when everywhere around me snoring and soft breathing took over the air, and Uncas himself seemed to be asleep, his shoulder slowly rising and falling. His hair lay in a heap behind him, his earring glistening in the darkness. I thought about how difficult it had been for him to ask me to marry him, how nervously he had struggled for words. How utterly adorable he had been in contrast to his usual stoicism. At this I smiled to myself. I had fallen in love with him in spite of the odds against us. Should I turn him down, would I ever find a man as noble and brave and selfless as him? Or even as handsome?

I realized something important, then. In his world, he had done me a great honor. He was the last of a respected tribe, and he could have had any girl from any other tribe, a girl well trained in the arts of survival in this harsh land. There were many beautiful ones, even in this place here. Instead he chose me, a completely helpless foreigner who had never had to do a thing for herself and had yet to be taught anything at all about caring for a man, a family, a household. Not an easy decision for him either, I was sure. Yet he wanted me, and I wanted him, and I would follow him to the ends of the earth…he would never fit into my former life, so I would have to fit into his, and he was worth any sacrifice.

My mind was then made up. I slowly arose. Careful not to awaken anyone, I tiptoed around the sleeping bodies that separated me from the man I loved. I knelt beside him, lowered my face and whispered his name into his ear. He sat up instantly, his eyes rapidly blinking away sleep. My heart melted once more at this, and I wondered briefly what he had looked like as a child.

"I have thought about your proposal" I whispered. He stared at me intently. "And I am honored to accept." I smiled at him shyly. His face came very close to mine. Was he going to…? His lips touched mine briefly, and then again. We were kissing. He moved them against mine in a way that could only be described as delicious. And it was like Cora said; I was falling and falling, never wanting to stop. My hands clenched and unclenched helplessly, wanting to touch him but afraid to, as his beautiful mouth slowly made love to mine, and his hands freely went into my hair. I gasped for air when he drew back. "I will talk to my father tomorrow" he said, his own voice ragged. "We will wed in a few days".


	8. Chapter 8

_Thank you for all the reviews. I thought the end scene of the movie was beautiful but this couple deserved more, so I hope I found a way of still incorporating it without ruining it. It will remain a theme throughout the story._

Chapter 8

The next day Cora was here. I clung to her from the moment her, Nathaniel and Chingachkook had finished undergoing the same scrutiny Uncas and I endured upon arriving. I did not want to let go, but she winced painfully at my tight embrace and it was then I noticed a blood stained rag tied around her left upper arm. This is what had happened to them: Immediately upon getting out of the river following the jump, she and Nathaniel had been attacked. Uncas and I must have floated quite a bit further downstream or else Uncas would have helped them. As it were, Chingachkook came to their aide and subdued the attackers, but not before Cora had been grazed by shrapnel. They hid in the woods after this, eventually joining up with a few other survivors of the massacre. Cora had applied her medicinal skills to her arm as best she could but with lack of any ointments or clean bandages it soon became infected. Nathaniel tried to convince her that they should go to Albany for proper medical care but she refused on account of not knowing my whereabouts. Then they heard about us at by word of mouth from some friendly Indians and decided to come to the Huron village as well and try to have the wound healed through the traditional Native way.

I wanted to tell Cora about the plans Uncas and I had, but every time I tried the words would not leave my mouth. I was horrified at myself for this. Was I ashamed? And yet the truth was, it was her disapproval that I feared more than anything.

She was taken into a little hut and given strange potions to drink and mysterious mixtures applied to the injury. An old woman was doing these things for her, all the while chanting oddly. The ways of these people were stranger to Cora than to me considering I had been here for a full week already; yet she accepted them calmly. I was proud of her.

She spent the night in that hut. I knew Uncas was preparing to tell his father about our wedding plans, so when I saw them in the evening sitting down together by the fire along with Nathaniel, I shyly made my way into the chief's hut and unsuccessfully tried to sleep. I could still faintly hear them talking in Mohican, and although I did not understand a word I listened intently to the tone of Chingachkook's and Nathaniel's voices and tried to decipher the emotions conveyed, whether there was approval or disapproval. It was hard to tell. After talking for what seemed like several hours they came to sleep in the chief's hut as well, and I looked at Uncas questioningly. He noticed and gave me a slight nod before lying down.

Cora was allowed out of the medicine woman's hut the next day. I walked beside her and tried my best to show her around, all the while trying to summon my courage to tell her about Uncas and me, but it was she who spoke first. "Alice, do you know about our father?" she asked nervously. "Yes" I whispered. "I saw it." "Oh you poor girl" Cora exclaimed tearfully and hugged me with her good arm. We stood like that and silently led our tears fall, finally mourning our father together. It was a healing moment.

She then stepped back. "We went back and buried him. It was risky but I had to do it. Couldn't leave him out there…" I nodded. I was glad it had been done, but also glad I had not been there and be reminded of how he had been killed. "Alice, I must return to England, but only for a while. I must settle our father's estate. We are his only heirs, you know. We have the right to claim what is ours. Nathaniel will come with me." She smiled at what she said next. "Nathaniel and I plan to be married in Albany before we go. I had assumed that you would want to come with us and possibly stay in England, but then I heard that you have wedding plans of your own…"At this she gazed at me with raised eyebrows, and I blushed. To my surprise she embraced me yet again and whispered "If I didn't love his brother I would not approve, I'm sure you know that. But…this is a new world. I will not stand in your way."

Tears of relief threatened to spill over once more for me. Cora looked at me teasingly. "Little quiet Alice, I had no idea. While I was absorbed in my love story I did not suspect anything between you and Uncas. And all this while I thought I was being the rebel!" We laughed, and it felt so good after what was probably the most emotional conversation we had ever had up until this point. "How long will you be in England?" I asked. Cora shrugged helplessly. "I have no idea how long selling the estate and everything else will take. We will certainly not stay there any longer than we have to. But can you imagine Nathaniel in England?" At this we giggled. "He cannot go about dressed like this" I snorted, "but then again I cannot picture him in proper English attire!"At this we laughed even harder.

Nathaniel was not satisfied with the healing process of Cora's wound. Too much time had passed from the time of the injury and so the wound in it its infected state would not respond to natural healing methods. There also appeared to be some shrapnel pieces imbedded so deep within the flesh that it was risky to try to remove them without proper equipment. Chingachkook thought that if they gave it more time the old ways would prove themselves successful, they had, after all, only been here for a day but Nathaniel was very insistent that they return to Albany at once to see a doctor. He was extremely worried that Cora might lose her arm, and when I heard him utter those words my blood chilled as well. Chingachkook and him were respectfully arguing and when Uncas joined them they switched to Mohican. The children were once again tugging at my hands so I walked out of earshot. What about our wedding, I thought. When would it take place? Would it take place at all under the circumstances? And where would Uncas and I live afterwards? Once again I felt forgotten. Was it selfish to have these worries in light of my sister's condition?

Why was it that Uncas always seemed to find me when I was crying? Huddled behind a tree after sunset I let my worries and fears overwhelm me, and there he was, pulling me into his arms and I let myself relax against him. "I'm sorry I did not have the opportunity to speak with you earlier. I do not intend to treat you like this" he nearly whispered, and I allowed myself to lean against him. He sat down on the ground and arranged me so my back rested against his chest. It felt wonderful. "Nathaniel and Cora want to leave for Albany tomorrow to see a doctor and from there go on a ship to England" he continued. "We need to decide where we want to stay for the winter. Unless you want to go to England with them". He looked at me earnestly when he said this. I shook my head vehemently. "All right, so we could stay in Albany until their return and then decide where to go from there." He sounded unsure at this. My head spun around and I we found ourselves face to face. We both knew the truth. We would encounter nothing but opposition to our union in a civilized town. We might even have to keep the marriage a secret. Marrying Uncas meant abandoning life in civilization. He did not have to say it. I understood.

"There is a trapper's cabin in the mountains a two day's walk from here. We have stayed there a few times while passing through. Nobody lives there. I can fix it up a little and we could stay for the winter. Would you like that?" I smiled and said "I have to warn you, I know nothing about making a home!"Uncas chuckled and playfully touched the tip of my nose. "I do know that. I will enjoy teaching you." We gazed at each other. I thought he might kiss me again. I knew he wanted to, but he held out. "So, if you want your sister to be present at the ceremony it has to happen tomorrow morning."

And so it was that instead of in a church in England I was married in the outdoors amidst a foreign people in a foreign land. Instead of a veil colorful strings and beads braided into my hair adorned my head. Instead of polished shoes I wore leather moccasins, and instead of a white long dress I wore a smooth garment of animal hide that only covered me to mid thigh. Instead of a white proper Englishman I walked towards a warrior with brown skin and long black hair adorned with feathers. His eyes grew large at the sight of me, and began to burn with desire. With every step I took towards him amidst the whooping and hollering villagers I swayed my hips just a little. No one had to tell me I was beautiful, I could see it in his eyes. I was driving him wild and enjoyed every moment of it, of the power I suddenly knew I possessed over my beloved, fearless warrior. In those minutes I felt like the queen of the world and could not have been any happier had my wedding indeed been the way I thought it would be in childhood dreams.

I don't remember much about the ceremony, try as I might. Foreign words were spoken; gifts were exchanged on our behalf. At some point a pipe was passed around and we were doused in smoke. There was some chanting, although I don't recall the details of these things or the order in which they happened. We were seated and freshly grilled meat was passed around as well as the best of the harvest which included colorful corn, cooked beans with corn bread and grilled squash drizzled with honey and that delightful stuff called maple syrup. After the meal I had to endure the low point of the day, which was saying goodbye to my sister. I tried very hard not to cry on this happiest day of my life. Knowing she was in safe hands with Nathaniel made it easier. We had briefly entertained the idea of accompanying them to Albany and then travel to the trapper's cabin but the cabin was much closer to the Huron village and so it would mean a lot of unnecessary wandering. I felt bad about missing out on Cora's wedding in Albany but she assured me that it would be a quick solemn ceremony conducted by a clergyman and nothing more. So with her blessings still lingering in my ear I waved her off and returned to the festivities.

There was more feasting and dancing for the rest of the day; it was clear these people welcomed any opportunity to have a celebration even if it was not for one of their own. And I had been wrong for thinking there was no affection between men and women among these people; on this occasion I saw many of them holding hands and embracing. Uncas sat beside me, held my hand and gazed at me often. I smiled at him openly, drunk with happiness. There was a little hut prepared for us for our wedding night, and when darkness fell and the fires were lit and drums were playing he pulled me up and led me towards that hut amidst more cheerful whooping and hollering from those around us.

My heart began to race as we ducked into it and let the flap of the fur fall back over the opening. The light of the fires shone through the thin cracks of the wood and cast playful shadows over Uncas face. He took both my hands into his, lifted them and slowly let his hands run down over my wrists, forearms, elbows, shoulders. He kissed me again with barely controlled passion and this time I responded. His hands went to my waist that, for the first time in a long time was free of a corset. His movements were slow and gentle but his mouth was hungry, and I knew it. I allowed myself to caress his face and hair.

Before I knew it his arms encircled my upper body completely and I threw my arms around his neck. We were locked in a tight embrace and kissing madly, wanting to be even closer to each other than was possible. Or was it? I felt it, that maddening feeling that had kept me awake at the fort. It washed over me in waves upon waves. Uncas's breath came quick and he made a sound like a groan when one of my legs wrapped itself around one of his. What was I doing? I didn't know it myself. My breath stopped momentarily when he slowly grasped my dress and started to pull it over my head. He halted when he sensed my uncertainty but I did not bid him to stop so he continued, until I stood before him naked, a crazy fluttering in my intestines. He looked down at me as if he were gazing at a beautiful piece of art and then smiled a smile that made me melt, the kind that turned his eyes into slits and lit up his whole face. "You are so beautiful" he whispered to me. His lips went to my neck. He let his fingers lightly graze over my breasts, a touch so light I barely felt it, and yet it made me gasp involuntarily.

Tentatively my husband's hands went lower on my body until they reached that untouched place. What was he doing? I clung to him helplessly when I felt him actually touch me where I dared not touch myself save for cleaning. Gasps escaped me unbidden when his hand, ever so carefully, moved back and forth between my legs, the whole while staring into my eyes for affirmation. The wetness was there again and I grew embarrassed. He must have read it on my face for he quit moving his hand and asked if he should stop. I shook my head. The excitement was nearly unbearable and yet I could not bear the thought of him withdrawing his hand. He continued to move it, gently as before but a little faster. I threw back my head and moaned his name, over and over again. He steadied me with his other hand, never stopping. How could such a light touch drive me this wild? A feeling almost cruel in its delight began to collect within me as if I was climbing a mountain, higher and higher, desperate to reach the top.

I lost all control and moved myself against him. "Let it go, my love" he whispered. "Just let it happen." Just then I felt as if I was reaching that top I had been struggling for, assaulted with its intensity. Streams upon streams of long overdue pleasure flowed through me. My legs grew shaky and weak. I even felt as though I lost control of my bladder (yes I'm one of those women, though it took me a while before realizing this was normal for me)!

Nearly weeping I sank to the ground, heavily struggling for air. Uncas came down with me and removed his clothing faster than I could notice. Belying the clueless virgin that I was my legs parted for him as if they had done it a million times. His face hovered above mine, desperation in his eyes. I felt something between my legs anew, something that was not his hand. It was seeking entry where it seemed there was no entry.

My breathing quieted and my body clenched up. Uncas stroked my hair and face and tried again, but I could not relax. I had a pretty good idea what part of him was seeking my inside, yet it seemed too big. How would it ever fit? My pleasure was forgotten. I was afraid in spite of his soothing touch. "My love, you must loosen yourself" he said quietly while patiently rubbing one of my thighs. He pushed against me once more, and my face contorted in pain. At this he squeezed his eyes shut, took several deep breaths and heaved himself off of me.

Facing me sideways he now lay gazing into my eyes. "I'm sorry" I whimpered close to tears. He did not respond, and I grew afraid that he may be angry at me. After several minutes of silence he spoke. "Do you remember the story I told you at the cliffs?" I nodded. "I told it to you because I wanted you to know something. I wanted you to know that from the moment I saw you, I knew you were THAT girl to me. Do you understand what I mean?" Again I nodded. "I would do the same for you. I would die for you in an instant. Not just for you, but for your innocence. When I saw you," and at this he smiled "I thought you were unfit for this harsh world. Like a flower. I knew your life was in danger, but more than that. There are men who, given the opportunity, would not take your life but instead do something worse. They would pick the flower that you are with violence, and that would kill you just the same. You are a flower that needs to be picked with care. I knew this when I saw you. I needed to protect you." He leaned in closer and whispered in my ear. "I wanted to be the one to pick you. It was all I could think about…I love you Alice…"Tears welled up in my eyes. I found his mouth and kissed him with all the love in my heart. We kissed slowly this time, unhurried, savoring every moment.

I knew I did not have to give myself to him that night, though I greatly wanted to. After more kissing and gentle caressing I told him I was ready, and he rolled onto me once more. I willed myself to relax my bottom, to push outward instead of pull inward, and when he carefully prodded me he found me soft against him. Ever so slowly he inched his way into me. There was pain, and several times I sucked in my breath. Each time he paused and asked if I was all right, and would not continue until I assured him that I was. Then it was done; he was inside me all the way and we started to move with each other in a peaceful rhythm.

I arched my back, glad that the pain was over and eager to give him the same pleasure he had bestowed upon me earlier. He held onto me tightly and stared at me with unspeakable love and passion burning in his eyes. I searched for pleasure within me, and found it, and allowed myself to softly moan along with his movements. He was not too big, he filled me perfectly, and it was this fullness shifting within me that caused me to start the long climb up that mountain again that I had already conquered.

Uncas' breath came faster now, along with his thrusting. He gasped words I did not understand, and when I asked for their meaning he barely managed to utter "My wife, my wife, my wife, you are everything, everything…" At this he arched himself deeply into me and grasped me tightly. His movements ceased. His head was turned do the side and his eyes squeezed shut. A new warm wetness entered my secret place but I knew it had not come from me. He had reached the top of his mountain, and I rubbed his back soothingly as he finally relaxed against my body. With hair sticking to his face he once again smiled, and I loved him so dearly in that moment. I returned the smile and wrapped my arms around him. I remembered in that in the Bible there were a few verses that talked about husbands "knowing" their wives and I felt I now finally knew exactly what that word entailed and found it very befitting. I sensed that I had known Uncas, and he me, on such an intimate level in this night that nothing would be the same anymore henceforth.

We arose from the fur stained with the proof of my virginity and washed ourselves with water from a basin in a corner. We bedded down in a different spot in the hut, still naked but not caring. Uncas rearranged another fur over us and then wrapped me in his arms. It was the most delightful way to fall asleep.


End file.
